When the Hero is Gay Gay Gay
by Nenya Entwhistle
Summary: Oneshot. When you are Harry Potter and gay, pulling a bloke is not an easy matter.


**Note:** This story is a little different than a lot of my others, which tend to be more serious in nature... this one attempts to be different (I hope) and written in a different style than my other works.

**Timeline**: I am not sure when this is suppose to be based in the HP timeline, but it is very much an AU as I wasn't really thinking of any particular timeline that this would fit into the HP world. Just think of this as skewing into AU, but not completely crossing over as I did try to characterize them somewhat like their original characters and yet at the same time making them fit into this story!

**Disclaimer: **It all belongs to JK Rowling, just borrowing for a bit of storytelling!

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**When the Hero is Gay, Gay, Gay…  
**by Nenya Entwhistle

When you are gay and considered a hero by many, it can be hard to go about getting your bit of cock. You can't just go up to a bloke and ask him if he'd mind to poke you good and hard in the arse. Well, it would be easy, but not easy in the right sort of way. And because you are Harry Potter, you don't go screwing around. If you do, you do it as someone else.

#1: Some Blond Ingredients

It wasn't easy nicking the blond hair (it wasn't easy nicking hair of any sort) off this beautiful bloke with eyes so blue that it made Harry think of the sky above a sunny beach. But it was worth the trouble, especially when Harry stuck the hair into his flask and shook it up real good, then took a long sip. He'd gotten used to the vile taste enough that he didn't wince, even flinch. Just took it as good as he got. That's what Moody kept telling him when he'd been in training to be an Auror. Told him that he had to be a strong wall, but Harry was tired of that. That's why when training was done Harry hadn't even bothered to take the final examination. So long and good-bye to being an Auror. Too bad it didn't mean he could stop being a hero.

Harry ran some fingers through the fine hair and took a good look at himself in the mirror. If the hair wasn't so short, he thought this bloke could have been a girl. He was that pretty. Harry smiled, just the sort of bloke that he wouldn't have a prayer of shagging unless the blond wasn't a muggle. As Draco kept telling him, if he'd only used his bloody fame, he wouldn't have to ask Draco to brew him up some polyjuice all the time. But it wasn't like Harry could go around and ask Hermione. She'd disapprove of his shag a bloke once and drop him the next day. It wasn't responsible or good and that's exactly what a hero should be.

And it wasn't like Harry was going to go up and ask Snape. Harry knew the Headmaster didn't hate him, but that didn't mean he liked him much either. Snape tolerated him. Tolerate still might be a mite too positive. Harry sighed. He knew Snape would likely glare at him over his black-rimmed glasses and then tell him to get out, _Now!_ Harry rubbed his eyes and fidgeted with his fingers. The only one else Harry knew that might be able to make polyjuice was Fred Weasley and Fred was Fred. Harry didn't like those odds. So it had to be Draco and Harry knew that he'd been the right choice. Draco was convenient and it wasn't hard to keep him quiet.

"Oh fuck no," said Draco, walking into Harry's room without knocking as usual. "You look like my fucking twin."

Harry saw Draco slowly coming into view from the mirror. "That's the point." He grabbed his shirt and pulled it off, almost stopping midway through when he heard that interesting throat noise Draco made when he saw something he liked. "What now?"

"Nipples," was the one word Draco managed to gurgle out. Harry shrugged the shirt off and immediately zeroed in on the blond's nipples. He blinked. Interesting. Harry touched the stud that pierced through the nipple and almost groaned when he felt how good it felt for the lower regions. "Is the cock pierced too?"

Figures Draco would ask something like that when he recovered his voice. Harry threw the shirt at Draco and it hit him smack on the face. "Shut it," said Harry, knowing exactly how to get Draco off his dirty thoughts. "And bloody well make yourself useful and find me something to wear."

Draco smirked and turned around in a whirl, almost diving into Harry's closet. It wasn't often Harry let Draco pick him out something to wear when they hit the clubs. There wasn't any great reason. It was a universally accepted truth that Draco was a queen at dressing. Harry's excuse was Draco's tastes weren't his. Plausible, yes, but as Draco kept saying (and whining): _Who the fuck cares?_

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There are, of course, problems when you acquire a new body. You've got to learn how it moves and acts and if it doesn't, then you've got a real problem. But you've been pretty lucky from the get go. The blokes (and their cocks) have been good and good-looking. Now all you need to do is learn how this blond bombshell reacts before you hit the clubs. You have maybe five minutes.

#2: Equipment Check

Okay. It wasn't like Harry hadn't seen dozens of other cocks, ones he's sucked and fucked with. But dropping his trousers when he was in someone else's body always made his stomach do a Wronski Feint. Bloody annoying. Harry undid his belt, shucked his trousers, and then pulled off his pants. And there it was… his bits for the night. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Harry reached down and cupped the slightly fuzzy balls and stroked. He bit the bottom lip and moved on to grasp the cock. It was already hardening nicely and filling out. Soon he had a good handful. Oh, that was… oh, very good. Harry held back a groan, knowing full well that Draco was spying on him in some way magical or not. He started stroking faster, squeezing more and he knew he was going to come soon. Like, right, now. Harry dropped to the floor.

"Oh fuck me," said Draco, sounding slightly breathless from outside the bathroom. Harry leaned against the wall and wondered how long it'd take him to regain the use of limbs. A good long while, he predicted. Not that Draco would give him that long. "Potter," said Draco with much more control, "stop inspecting the equipment and get your arse out! We've got clubs to hit and blokes to shag!"

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Choosing a club isn't easy, but it's not hard. You've got to think of what kind of bloke you're wanting to shag 'cause each club has its own sort of crowd. Take _Sharp Space_, it's for the exhibitionists; or _The Alley, _it's for the go-in and get-out crowd; or your favorite, _Visible_, it's for those with slightly more discernible tastes. The club has a cleaner, less desperate set (fucking gorgeous) and the only problematic thing about _Visible_ is that sometimes you feel invisible. That's good and bad. It means you aren't guaranteed a pull.

#3: It's Hunting Season

Magically darkened blond hair and brown contacts are supposed to be Draco's clever disguise. Harry would like to tell his friend that he still looks like a Malfoy even if his blond hair is dirty instead of platinum. Even if Draco dared to go brunette, he'd still look like a Malfoy. It was the walk and presence and that damn smirk. Draco couldn't stop being a Malfoy even if he tried. Not that he really does.

"The redhead," said Draco, nodding over to bloke dancing almost directly under a spotlight, "doesn't look too bad, if you fancy the sort."

Harry leaned back against the bar and tipped his drink up and drained it. "Don't let Ron stop you from shagging him."

Even with the dimmed lights, Harry saw Draco's obvious eye-rolling. "Redheads aren't _my _thing." Draco dumped the rest of his drink into Harry's empty glass. "Neither are blonds."

"Pity," said Harry and drank the rest of Draco's drink for him. "I guess you won't have the honor of being my safety shag."

Draco ordered another rounds of drinks before he turned to Harry and snapped, "I'm never anyone's safety!" Draco shoved Harry's filled glass to him and took his shot and tipped it back. Then he narrowed his eyes and took Harry's and knocked it down. "Fuck you, Potter," he said and got up off the bar stool and made a bee line for the dance floor.

Sometimes Harry didn't know what to make of Draco. He didn't know when Draco would be in the mood for a ribbing or when he should just shut his mouth and not say anything the least bit offensive. Boys, Harry thought, were so difficult to understand. But they had penises and that made them worthwhile, more or less. Harry stared at his glass and then shoved himself off the stool. Draco was already beginning his search wherever the fuck he was. It was time Harry did too.

Where to start… there were redheads, transvestites, and oh—a tall, dark someone standing off to the side in the shadows waiting to meet Harry's blond somebody. Perfect.

* * *

All you have to do is go up to that tall, dark and handsome and ask him to dance. It's that simple and it's that terrifying. You've never been good at being bold, not about things like this. If it's Voldemort, you can hold your wand up and cast the spell. When it comes to picking up a bloke, you need some courage in the form of inebriating alcohol. You've had several shots, you're ready.

#4: So Maybe This Is Right

Harry said, "Hi, um, I was wondering… wanna dance?" The bloke had smiled and said that he would and that his name was Armel. Now they were dancing so close to each other on the dance floor that Harry was sure he was going to cream his pants any minute. Somehow Armel knew exactly how to swivel his hips and get a rise out of him. It was like he knew, but that was ridiculous of course. Harry made a point of never shagging anyone twice, well, except Draco. But Draco was Draco and Harry knew it wasn't him. He saw him off to the side, talking to some brunette, though his eyes kept straying toward Harry and this (oh god) incredible bloke.

"Come with me," said Armel, leaning over and whispering into Harry's ear, "to my flat."

"Yeah," said Harry and he rested his head on Armel's shoulder. "Sure. Now?"

Armel licked down Harry's neck and then started sucking hard on his skin. If possible, Harry felt his trousers get that much tighter. Armel then leaned back and grasped Harry's wrist, didn't say a thing, just pulled and led him away. Harry glanced back over his shoulder where Draco was kissing now kissing the brunette and he wanted to tell him that he was leaving, but Draco was smart. He'd figure things out. And (oh fuck) Armel knew how to use his fingers too.

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You're nervous and you think it's stupid. You've shagged a lot of blokes. Like Ithel, Brendan, Mirza, and others you don't remember. Too many names and whatnot, but they all were good shags. Weird names though. Not that you really care what the fuck their name is as long as they know how to use their cock. You hope this one is good. You've been dying for a good shag.

#5: And So It Begins

"You idiot," said Armel and he grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pushed him onto the bed. "There's not much time."

Harry wanted to protest, saying that they had plenty of time. All night, but for some reason, his blokes never wanted him to stay the night. They always kicked him out after the shag. Harry was beginning to wonder if he ought to take it personally, but whatever. It was a shag and a good shag and there really wasn't anything to complain about. At least, he didn't have Draco's luck. Pretty face, pretty body, and terrible fuck.

"You dirty boy," said Armel, pulling Harry's shirt off. His hands were already moving down and unfastening Harry's trousers. Soon Harry was naked and Armel was still mostly clothed. Harry reached forward, wanting to get Armel's trousers off, but Armel seized his wrists and pulled them over his head instead. Before Harry could dare to react, Armel had dug some handcuffs out and gotten them around each of Harry's wrists. Harry was too busy staring at Armel's dark, nearly black eyes and then all he could think of was those long fingers on his cock when Armel said, "Safe word?"

If Armel wasn't in the process of fisting his cock, Harry might have managed a better answer than a half-moan followed by an _oh god, more please. _He was too intent on the unseen ripples coursing through his body to manage more than begging. He didn't care what Armel did to him, it wasn't like he couldn't get out of the handcuffs. All he had to say was look at the handcuffs and whisper _Alohomora_ and they'd open in an instant. Good thing he was decent as wandless magic, came in useful— "Oh fuck," he groaned. "Do that again."

Armel actually chuckled, low and deep, and Harry didn't have much time to catch his breath when Armel again slid his blunt nail over the head of Harry's cock. "Like that, do you?"

Such an understatement, Harry thought, though he didn't really know how he was even thinking. His brain should be completely shut down. All the activity was in his nether regions and boy did it feel good. It was like Armel knew exactly how to play with his body. But that was silly. Armel hadn't ever stroked his cock, hadn't licked his precome off, suck his head like a lollipop. Maybe his body was stereotypical. The other blokes he shagged had known just how to touch him too. Just not as good, not as bloody good as… ARMEL!

"My turn now," said Armel, standing up and pulling off his trousers and Harry noted (once he was able to lift his head) that Armel had a mighty impressive erection. Certainly nothing to sneeze about and Harry had a feeling he'd be screaming soon.

* * *

When you've been shagged so hard and so wonderfully that you know tomorrow you'll still feel the burn, you think of how luck you are that you always pick up the right sort of bloke. Your fucks are quite spectacular and you've got nothing to complain about. Your eyes are shut as you stretch your legs. God, you feel so good. You sigh and don't want this to end, but it's probably time to go. You open your eyes and turn your head so you can smile at your bloke, thinking that maybe this one might let you stay the night. You think it's all right if he doesn't. It's… oh my fucking god—

#6: What You Think Is Not What Is

"You!" said Harry, his eyes wide open and he still can't believe that he's seeing _him! _God, it's actually him! Oh fuck, it's him and _he_ fucked him. Good Merlin. "But you don't like me! You just glare at me all the time and you think I'm stupid… You don't like me."

"I don't have to like you to fuck you," said Snape in a clipped, cold way. He grabbed his trousers and pulled them up. "Why should Harry Potter have all the fun?" Snape pressed his hand on Harry's flat abdomen and let his hand drift upward until it reached Harry's face. "You have your bit of fun and I will have mine."

"Draco," said Harry, wishing he could shut out this strange combination of horror and misery from his mind. "He told you."

"Your tendency to trust is your undoing," said Snape as he caressed Harry's cheek. "You forget yourself." Snape leaned down and kissed Harry quite chastely on the lips. "You must be more careful if you wish to fuck muggles."

Harry froze when Snape said this and all he could do was stare at the Headmaster. If he wished to fuck muggles was what Snape said, but that wasn't right. It should be if you keep fucking muggles. Because he had, hadn't he? "How long?" Harry managed to croak. "How fucking long?"

"Since the first time," said Snape. His hands were on Harry's chest and his fingers were moving in slow circles around Harry's nipples. "You are so careless and so thoughtless." He bent his head and licked Harry's nipple, then catching the flesh between his stained teeth. Snape bit down hard, but not too hard. And he sucked for a good, long while. When he let go, Harry's chest was heaving.

"You are a hazard to yourself and others," said Snape with such conviction that Harry flinched. "You cannot be left alone."

"Draco," said Harry. "You sent him."

"So you are not completely hopeless." Snape's hands had drifted down to grip Harry's hips.

"You made the polyjuice." Snape's nails dug into Harry's flesh, but he didn't feel the pain. Something else, something Harry could not name was fluttering inside. "Why?"

"It is a matter of who owes what to whom," said Snape before he leaned down once more and kissed Harry on the lips. This time there was warmth and tongue and no reserve. It was consuming and it was mindless. When the kiss ended, Harry was sure of nothing except that he wished it was not over. "You were promised to me."

"But you don't like me," said Harry, since that was the only thing he could think to say. "You've never liked me."

"As I've said before, if you would pay attention," said Snape and he grabbed Harry's cock (in the way that made Harry beg), "I don't have to like you, Potter."

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You guess you should listen even if you don't really want to. Because when you think about things, it just doesn't make sense. If Snape really has been fucking you all along, especially when you were green and you didn't know what rimming was, he must not hate you. And since he's still fucking you, he must like you a little. He just won't admit it. He's Snape and you're Potter and that's the way things are.

Thank you, Draco Malfoy.

**_Finis._**

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_Please review, it's your only chance!_

**A/N: **I hope you enjoyed this story as it was a fun story to tell, a bit of a change is always nice. This time the length was a lot shorter and hopefully just long enough without being too short. With the exception of "A Conscious Choice," all my oneshots are typically around 2 to 5k with some exceptions (mainly shorter). I will continue to try to release oneshots every few days or every few weeks, so keep watching!

Please check out my other stories!

**Requests:** If you'd like a particular story to be told, please be aware that I usually only write HP/SS or HP/DM and even sometimes, HP/SS/DM, and if you'd like leave a review with a request or otherwise. I can't say for sure I'll do your request, but you can hope, right?


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